Inferior
by christywitha CH
Summary: You know you're not a good person. So you wander through life, your head held high, and let think everyone else is beneath you. Everything in life is beneath you. That is, until you met her.


You know you're not a good person.

You know that you've made some bad choices, you know that you've done some unforgivable things, actually done some Unforgivable curses. But you had to go through things that most people won't have to go through. Does that make your actions forgivable? No, it doesn't. You realize that. But it's too late to change anything now, too late to fix your mistakes.

So you wander through life, your head held high, and let think everyone else is beneath you. Everything in life is beneath you.

That is, until you met her.

She knows your actions are unforgivable, but she doesn't care. Instead, she reprimands you for being arrogant, and shows you snippets of inferiority you've never felt before.

"That's unforgivable," she says, "You can't change what you did in the past, but you can change the way you act now." You ponder over her words but the meaning doesn't sink in on you. You continue with your arrogant facade, covering up your shameful past.

-X-

Your father gives you orders. He expects you to be afraid of him, the same way he was of Voldemort all those years ago. But you're not. You're 24 now.

"_No_." You stand from the chair in your father's manor and feel a sneer arise onto your face. "I will not take orders from you, anymore, father." You walk to the front of the house, opening the door before turning to face him before you leave. "All because you spent your entire life in fear doesn't mean that I have to as well." At that, you slam the door simply for the dramatic effect, and Apparate somewhere far away from home.

-X-

Astoria doesn't get any of it. So you resort to the bar.

Alcohol is the only one that understands you.

Your vision was blurry. You had quite a few too many. Theodore Nott was on the other side of the bar, mumbling incoherent words. He was cursing the world, and you as well.

He was silly to be doing such a thing. He was so inferior to you, so small. One of the poorest in all of Slytherin. And here he is cursing your father's name?

You had you wand. You used your wand.

So inferior.

-X-

Nobody understands you.

But you like it that way. You prefer it that way. You go through your life with your head held high. You don't care what other people think of you.

But just because you don't care, doesn't mean you don't hear.

The whispers. They surrounded you, haunting you, reminding you of the ghost of your past. They follow you everywhere you go. You try, honestly you do. You try and ignore them. But they persist. They follow you.

Suddenly, it's impossible to ignore them. But you still try anyway. That is, until you met her.

She knows about your past, but she doesn't care. She hears the whispers, yet she still doesn't care. Instead, she reprimands you not for caring.

"Draco," she says, "You've made mistakes. But how about you try and fix those mistakes, instead of walking through life like they don't bother you, even though they do?" You ponder over her words but the meaning doesn't sink in. You continue to act like what she said meant nothing to you. You continue to ignore them.

_"Draco! Listen to me!" _You turn around, and face her. You love her. Everything about her. Just not this part about her. "The war is over. Blood status is irrelevant. It's not about your _family _who defines you anymore. It's about the impact you've had to the wizarding worl-"

You do not allow her to finish. You Apparate away, leaving her mid-sentence.

-X-

"I've heard he killed off Nott," you hear. You ignore it. You've dyed your hair a bit of a darker shade than how it normally is. When you leave it to grow out it's pale blond color, that's when people begin to recognize you again. "In cold blood, he did."

You look at the people gossiping. Glare at them actually. Your pale grey eyes meet their shabby excuse of clothes, and you immediately scoff, as if on cue.

People with clothes so weary can't possibly be any better than yourself.

Even if they've never killed a man.

-X-

"Draco," Astoria whispers to you. "Stop it." She slaps you across the face. You close your eyes, and take the beating without a flinch. Her deep blue eyes met your fatigued ones.

"I no longer want to meet with you, Astoria," you say. You remove your hand from her fragile waist, and Apparate without another word.

-X-

_Draco,_

_I don't want you coming home. You will make a life for yourself, without myself or your mother. I want to see you try. You are so foolish, so weak._

_So go ahead. Attempt. Show us just how independent you are. But don't you dare come home. You no longer have our respect._

_Lucius Malfoy_

-X-

"It's him!" You are walking through Knockturn. You simply wished to exchange this cauldron in your hands with a slightly larger one. Your artificial hair color was fading though. It was becoming blond again.

"He's the one that killed Albus Dumbledore!" You shut your eyes at the ignorance, attempting to drown them out.

All you wanted was to make a batch of Polyjuice Potion.

"No. He was too sissy to do it himself. Some other Death Eater did it for him." Without thinking, you whip out your wand and point it in the direction you heard the voices. Tears flood into your eyes. You open your mouth to recite the familiar incantation once again.

"Avada Ke-"

"Silencio!" You hear this charm being shot at you from behind you. The muscles in your mouth freeze and close shut. You attempt to speak again, to dispute this injustice, but nothing comes out.

Astoria takes you by the arm and with just a snap the two of you disappear into the atmosphere.

-X-

"Draco," Astoria whispers to you. You've heard the word leave her lips hundreds of times. It's never sounded as disappointed as it did today.

A tear fell from your face. "You told me to not ignore the whispers, Astoria." You push away the drop from your eyes. "I want to make them go away. I want to get rid of my past." You didn't like to show anyone your weakness. Especially over something you would normally pretend to not to care about.

"Draco-" she starts. But you interrupt her.

She was right. She was right this entire time.

"I'm less than them. I'm not even a Malfoy anymore."

"Draco," a smile arose on her face. She ran a hand through your once again blond hair. "You're free."

**A/N: Written for the Hogwarts Games Beach Volleyball, round two. The prompt was "humble." ****Me and owluvr wrote this together. **** Please let us know what you think!**


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